


Kylo Ren and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by lusciousmouthboy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Choking, M/M, Not Beta Read, PWP but the porn is too floral to be graphic hahaha, but hot?, elements of bdsm in the sex and choking, if I were a fic I would be this fic, it's finished unlike al the other fics I've been posting but it's not beta read, kinda confusing becuase i"m a sappy dumbass, rough, this is the story of my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusciousmouthboy/pseuds/lusciousmouthboy
Summary: sea(men) of hellsKylo Ren wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Hux makes him feel better.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Kylo Ren and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Yee-fucking-haw!

Kylo Ren’s eyelids flutter.

Stars are blurring by, and there’s a greatwind from a sea, a thin blue light. 

Eyes of every colour, blinking, growing, 

blinding red 

And then black.

The Nothingness.

Kylo Ren suddenly wakes.

He fumbles from the bed to the floor. He’s covered in sweat and sheets and another bad dream. 

He shucks the sheets, the duvet, from the mattress in a fit: a seafloor bucking the always pressing water from its back

/Waves and waves/

And he stumbles over, into, and atop the bedclothes. 

Everything tears. Rip.

rip.

He curses like an Old Republic smuggler, and then some more because he isn’t and won’t ever be an Old Republic smuggler, 

and it’s all so much noise that the sentry stationed outside his quarters asks over the comms if he’s okay. 

Before he’s robed himself for the day, Kylo Ren has 

decimated most of his bedding,

demanded a sentry’s expulsion from the ship, and 

disfigured the blinds in his chambers to stars to stripes. 

He sees the galaxy in flags, now. Like a character in a wayfaring pirate, cannons at the ready, no questions asked and no questions answered,

holofilm.

_ the kind Han would’ve –  _

He draws blood brushing his teeth.

  
  


|o|

  
  


Kylo Ren paces the 

_ His hatred is useful, his fury is wasteful. _

He tries meditating. Earnestly, he does.

He berates some uniforms. He trains.

He finds no clarity. 

Is he having a cardiovascular episode?

He chuckles.

Had the nightmares returned?

Kylo Ren sinks into the Force, 

_ existing in all, big and small _ –

no

  * “Master?”



_ His hatred is useful, his fury is wasteful. _

Electromagnetic static. 

Something behind him wobbles.

Is he spacesick?!

**Ha**! Kylo Ren _does not get_ **_spacesick_**.

He tries, once more, to silence himself.

Nothing, nothing, nothing he is nothing

there is 

nothing

Not even the damned static.

Nothing.

There’s only one thing left for it, really.

His hatred is useful, his fury is wasteful, and he lays waste to an entire passway leading to the bridge.

  
  


|o|

  
  


The hateful twit is yammering to some uniform about some blah thing,

“rations, Starkiller Base, blah, blah, sneer, sniffle, blah, blah, more starch in my jodhpurs, if you will, tweedledoodlydoo,” – the usual FO nonsense.

Kylo doesn’t much care. Much, or at all. 

The uniform steps away at his approach. 

“General,” Kylo points down the bridge, “a word?” 

He asks it like a question, like the General could do anything other than follow, and, of course the twit tries.

“ _ Master  _ Ren, you may’ve observed, I’m rather occupied  _ here _ ,” he grinds his molars.

“I require you now _.  _ The throneroom,” Kylo purrs. There’s a threat somewhere stuck between the vowels, but the code is the meaning.

Hux pales, 

then reddens,

a glorious sunrise.

Kylo Ren is always thanking the graces and Force for his mask and the vocoder. He dreads obsessively the emotions his milksap face would and could and used to betray. 

And he’s not one for control. 

Was, is. Or patience,

His broiling bubbling blood

“Very well,” Hux’s nostrils are like gills, inhaling, exhaling, and Kylo smirks beneath 

their broiling, bubbling, blood.

Watching the General stalk back to his crew, 

their crew,

his ass,

Kylo Ren’s ass.

“I will return shortly. I expect a rations projection and complete grapholo by that time,” the General says. To the Captain, Commander, Major. 

Doesn’t matter; someone on the bridge is snapped to, 

Master Ren, this,

and that,

Kylo Ren inhales the seafoam fury, the pompous contempt --

It’s so good,

Kylo Ren -- he hears, called and

he’s tempted to look back to watch but

Kylo Ren 

is already not looking; 

is already striding down the bridge towards the nearest turbolift.

He smells the greatcoat – smoke and grease, soap and stardust – to his right.

“You carking imbecile,” he hisses.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the galaxy?” Kylo says, plucking, teasing.

Hux grumbles.

“What was that?” Kylo says, not caring one way, not caring the other way. He’s busy watching The General’s lips  spit the profanities

and tongue and 

Split

rather than worry about that which they profane.

He sweeps by Kylo into the turbolift – he and his greatcoat are the only greatwinds for parsecs.

Kylo Ren smiles as he inhales but no one can see it. 

The General stands at attention, waiting.

They both stand, statues, masks, waiting.

Kylo Ren can feel the Force surrounding them pulsate; once, twice, twenty, waves and waves.

unkind; he knows/

/they both know what’s coming./

Sealed air. 

Going

Locked doors. 

down

  
  


|o|

  
  


The Master of the Knights of Ren chooses the time and the General of the  _ Finalizer _ chooses the place.

He knows where the stormtroopers will be patrolling any given time of any given cycle.

Kylo doesn’t recognize this part of the ship.

“Where are we?” he corners Hux against walls so slate so mettled they could pass for

“Passway to stormtrooper barracks 8B – on-planet. Take it off,” Hux says, his eyes so bright, so livid.

Kylo steps closer, into and deeper; index and thumbs the General’s jaw and stares into, and deeper. 

“Still no,” he says.

He’s playing and Hux hears it in his voice, Kylo hears his frustration, 

Hux snarls

Kylo laps at it,

Hux arches into Kylo, and deeper; / waves bashing themselves against cliffsides/

against Kylo’s torso, and / Kylo is so fucking hard he could cut a kyber crystal.

Probably?

The General nips at Kylo’s neck, a small coin of exposed skin you’d have to be familiar with to find. He fists handfuls of Kylo’s robe, his tunic, and twists them. clammy black, spacesick grey.

They inhale each other, 

finally 

still.

Hux grips tightly every meter of Kylo Ren and pulls him across the way. Shoves, meets him crashing into the far wall.

“Kylo fucking Ren,” he breathes, “one day I will see you line-blasted for this,” where Kylo’s mouth would be, should be, is underneath. So close Kylo can feel the sensation of Hux feeling his breath wet and warm Kylo’s mask.

“and I will regret every second of it.” 

It, this.

The General’s breath, caf-stained. 

Firing-squads, they called them

some side of the Hosnian system.

Kylo Ren bucks, a rebuttal of language and thought. 

His hips against the General. 

Into Hux, 

“I will, Ren, I bloody will. You -- ”

Hux stammers to a stop, 

so pliable: all neck and open hot mouth.

And choking.

Kylo cuts through the conditioned air more more 

there’s no time, and 

presses into the Force, squeezes with left hand, harder, and Hux pants, choking.

He smiles all teeth, so bitter Kylo can taste it.

Feeding his

The darkness

They like this. 

Hux likes this. 

Hung, drawn, quartered.

Tasting like caf and iron.

Kylo presses into the Force, deeper.

“Enough. There.” croaks Hux. 

The General

Kylo steps closer, into and deeper and finally, 

kneels, masked – his movements are chopped now, make haste, they think someone thinks – and he rips away leftover buttons and pulls out Hux’s cock. Hard, he puts his head into Hux’s fucking crotch and sniffs and they’re both so hard they’ll break. Kylo Ren fucks Hux’s cock against his cold, hard, alduranium durasteel cheek. He pulls away to watch,

his hot open mouth hidden behind his mask

and

grips both of his gloved-hands around Hux’s cock, and pulls and pushes and pulls and pushes and pulls and

_ His hatred is useful, his fury is wasteful. _

Lifts him higher and higher -- they’re both higher and higher and standing and floating -- and Hux is all hot open mouth and spittle and moaning,

and Kylo takes the tip of Hux’s cock into the cowls of his robes and

Hux twitches, arches, knees at Kylo and connects, hits Kylo’s chest and Kylo fumbles, tripping backward.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ _ walking the plank _

The General lands, feet grounded and stepping into, onto,

spiking pleasure from both even still, more still because of it

not dampened by

Hux presses, one foot on Kylo’s chest

the other kneading his bicep,

and moves lick-split quick.

He tries to toe Kylo’s helmet and mask off and Kylo rises, rears,

still hard, both

nearing to break/waves

And he throws Hux back into the wall, not as gently as they’d ever agreed and Hux is snarling

choking again

Kylo Ren pulls and pushes, and cants into Hux and Hux is now coming into Kylo’s black, ridged, gloves. hands.

Hands.

And he inhales bulging and baring

and exhales into the wall.

The wall is sprayed and dripping with semen.

Kylo releases Hux and Hux is on the floor,  disgusted with

it the wall.

himself,

the General,

“Leave it,” Kylo says, “I like it,  _ Hux. _ ”

and smiles beneath the mask

like this will always be some game or some blackmail or some

The General’s eyes are moons. Warring moons.

Kylo laughs.

The General sneers. Usual.

Kylo pats his Tatooine sunsset head.

“Very well,  _ General _ . Report to the bridge when you’ve finished here,” Kylo Ren says as he walks back to the turbolift.

“Fuck yourself next time,  _ Ren _ .” Hux sneers.

Kylo taps his fingers against the mottled grey and grey and

white down a ways

wall. He’s quiet.

smiling, sated.

Something smashes behind him.

The turbolift arrives. 


End file.
